


A Thousand Pieces

by IrenkaFeralKitty



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of the Snap, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Impregnation, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Intercourse, Suicidal Thoughts, The Snap in the GFFA, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Sex, sexual contract
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2020-12-23 23:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21089837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrenkaFeralKitty/pseuds/IrenkaFeralKitty
Summary: An unknown force ripped the galaxy apart leaving the survivors of the Day of Dust to pick up the pieces, find a way to move on, and to begin rebuilding.





	1. Year One - 12 ABY

**Author's Note:**

> AU of my story, "Dusted".

The first few weeks and months after the Day of Dust are an emotionally numb blur. The entire Galaxy was reeling. Conflicts exploded, came to an end, or morphed into something far more horrific. The streets of every city on every settled planet were filled with mourners and beings desperate to find their lost loved ones.

Every day, word of so many new tragedies hit the Holonet that it quickly became a part of this new, broken universe. Trillions had disappeared in an instant. Compared to that, how terrible can the discovery of a crashed space liner or a power failure at a hospital that killed hundreds be?

It’ll probably be years before the full toll of the Dusting is understood. If ever.

Wes was in charge of Rogue Squadron now. What’s left of it, at least. If his brain didn’t feel like it was full of static all the time, he’d probably be more upset about it.

All he can see when he isn’t working is Hobbie’s body crumbling into dust in their apartment.

All he can remember is trying over and over and over again to reach Wedge or Tycho to no avail.

The galaxy had been shattered more completely than the worst two galactic civil wars and a resurgent Sith Lord could accomplish. Who would have thought that possible?

Wes clung to the Rogues as best he could. It’s the only thing left that feels even remotely familiar anymore. He’d scooped up the surviving bits of Corsair Squadron to fill out their numbers, and as helpful as that’s been in dealing with the ongoing, ever changing galactic crisis, it also means Wes has yet another reminder of Hobbie haunting his every waking moment.

He doesn’t know if he can survive this. All he has left is duty and that’s turning into more of an awful, insurmountable mountain everyday.

The galactic suicide rate has understandably exploded. There are moments where Wes feels like he’s teetering on the edge of understanding what it takes to make that final leap. Who knew what would happen if it did suddenly make sense? Or if he would have the strength to resist taking that final, fatal plunge?

The Rogues are going to be deployed soon. They’ve reached the point where they’re more functional than not in the sims and the galaxy needs them to help try and restore order. It’s a terrifying thought. They get better each day, but before the Dust, Wes would never have let a squadron with such dismal scores even think about seeing combat.

They don’t have a choice, though, do they?

The New Republic needs it’s symbols more than ever and Rogue Squadron has always been a beacon of hope and strength. If they’re very, very lucky, that reputation will give them a little bit of cover once they’re out in space.

Ackbar thinks the good they’ll do will outweigh the losses they’re going to take. Wes had just got out of a meeting with him and his gut is still churning at that grim logic.

He isn’t cut out for command.

He doesn’t have a choice.

Wes just blinks tiredly when he gets home and finds someone sitting on the couch. It’s the first time someone’s been here since he lost Hobbie and somehow… it helps that it’s _ her. _

“Your droid let me in.” Leia Organa-Solo gave him a ghost of a smile, looking as worn and drawn as Wes felt. Beside her, Wes’s old R4 unit let out a low warble.

“Okay,” Wes says because it’s hard to think through the static and he can’t think about why the Princess would be _ here. _“Can I get you a drink?” he asked after belatedly remembering his manners.

“Only if it’s extremely alcoholic.”

Snorting, Wes dropped his jacket onto the floor next to the door and made his way to the kitchen. “The makers of fine spirits are the only ones doing well right now,” he commented as he dug in the conservator for some ales.

Twisting the tops off with a practiced hand, Wes offered one to Leia and dropped down next to her on the couch. They sat silently for a few minutes, drinking with the practiced ease of old veteran Rebels.

“I’m out of a job,” Leia finally said once half her bottle was empty.

“Yeah?”

“Fallout from… all of this. Borsk Fey’lya insisted I couldn’t effectively govern given my personal loses. And I’m honestly not certain he was wrong.”

Wes let out a snort. “It’s Fey’lya. Since when is he ever _ right _ about something?”

That pulled a bark of laughter out of Leia. “He is. Sometimes.” An elbow jabbed her side, and Leia laughed again, but with a new, more britle sound. “Occasionally. And this might be one of those times. He didn’t have a spouse or children to lose, after all. And the House of Fey’lya came out better than others, comparatively. He has a clearer head right now that I do.”

“I’m sorry,” Wes said quietly. “About Han and the kids.”

“I’m sorry, too. Losing Hobbie and the other Rogues… To lose Wedge and Tycho as well must be awful.”

“How’s Winter?”

“She’s gone back to New Republic Intelligence. She can do more good there than working as my aide.”

The conversation fizzled out and they returned to drinking.

_ I’m sorry. _

Two words that echoed throughout the galaxy. Everyone had lost someone. Everyone was hurting. And everyone kept _ kriffing apologizing _ and expressing sympathy like it would make things better.

This one did. A little bit. Wes had never been close to the Princess, but as a Rogue, he’d accompanied her on missions. He’d teased Luke about how close he was to her during the Rebellion days. They were familiar enough to each other that this didn’t feel wholly wrong or forced.

The Day of Dust had proven to be the ultimate leveling tool. With such widespread loss, no one could be thought better than someone else.

Leia finished her drink first. Once his was gone, Wes rose and fetched more.

“What are you going to do now?” Wes asked after a while.

Leia blinked, her movements becoming slower and more sluggish as the alcohol burned through her. “I don’t know. The Alderaanian Alliance has asked me to come to New Alderaan to head the Alderaanian Council. After everything that’s happened, there seems to be a desire for a return to the old ways.”

Wes frowned slightly. There was a line of thought there…

It took a few moments for his muddled brain to figure it out. “They want you to be their queen?”

“I’m one of the few surviving members of the Great Houses,” Leia said bitterly. “And the Alderaanian Council was decimated by the- the Dusting.” There was a brief pause as they both blanched at the memory of that night. “Returning to the constitutional monarchy makes a lot of sense.”

“But you don’t want to do it?”

“I’ll do my duty,” Leia said looking hollow-eyed. “I just- I need time. Time to just be me, not the ch- the former chief of state and not the ruling queen of New Alderaan. I’m sorry to just show up but… I don’t have anyone else on Coruscant. No one from the old days. No one who wouldn’t try to use me to their advantage.”

That… really sucked, Wes realized. He’d been so caught up in his own hurts that he hadn’t even really processed that Leia had lost _ everybody. _ Luke was still technically around but he was, as always, off doing Jedi things and not here to support his sister.

Wes still had a few Rogues and a few of his former Corsair students. Leia was surrounded by politicians and no one else. Even Winter had left her.

“You can stay,” he blurted out. “As long as you need.”

Leia visibly wilted and slumped down against one of the arms of the couch. “Thanks. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Wes started to rise to fetch more ales when his droid appeared.

Kate let out a short _blap_ and rotated so she could place a glass of water in front of Leia. When Wes tried to stand again, her stun prod sprang threateningly out of her torso.

He sat. And drink the water she brought him a minute later. Wes didn’t usually get drunk this fast, but he’d been doing more of it lately.

When he looked over, he saw that Leia was curled up on her side fast asleep. She looked even more tired and worn out, her face lined with stress and grief.

He knew how she felt, and yet didn’t. His losses weren’t the same as hers. What mattered was that they were both hurting but were also somewhat comforted by each other’s presence.

Kate let out another threatening sound as Wes resolutely pushed himself upright. “I’m not getting ale,” he said as he wobbled slightly. “I’m going to go make the bed. I’m not making the Princess sleep on the couch.”

After a moment’s consideration, Kate rolled back until she was planted firmly in the middle of the doorway leading to the kitchen.

Wes patted her head as he passed by her. He had to concentrate to walk in a straight line. And if he was concentrating on walking, he wasn’t thinking about the fact that he’d done his best to avoid looking at his and Hobbie’s bed ever since the Dusting.

The sheets were still a mess, the blanket half draped on the floor and pillows askew. He’d tried to sleep here once a few days after the Dusting, but it had been awful. He’d been on the couch ever since.

Leia could sleep here, though. That would be okay. She deserved to sleep in a real bed, not on his and Hobbie’s old, shitty couch.

He stripped the old sheets off and remade the bed. Almost collapsed when he smelled Hobbie’s scent on one of the pillows, but he managed it in the end. Only cried a little bit, too.

It _ hurt, _ so damned much. This wasn’t like losing someone to combat or an accident. Hobbie had dissolved into _ dust _ before his very eyes and Wes’s grief churned alongside that of millions around him as they struggled with the exact same thing.

Everything was _ broken _ right now and Wes couldn’t see how it could possibly be fixed. Even the Princess was passed out right now after drowning her grief in Wes’s cheap ale. Leia had always been the central pillar of the Rebellion, strong and always able to keep going no matter what happened. To see her so fragile and lost was just… unprecedented.

He’d do what he could for her. He could do that much.

Wes was careful as he picked her up off the couch, gently cradling her in his arms as he carried her into the bedroom. He’d left the covers pulled back so he could easily lay her down and cover her up once he’d removed her shoes and socks.

It was heartening to see her lying in gentle repose. Wes let himself take a moment to just take comfort in the fact that she was comfortable and safe, and that he himself wasn’t alone. And as he stumbled back out to collapse on the couch, things didn’t feel quite so dark anymore.


	2. Year One - 12 ABY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: depression, implied suicidal thoughts

“Kate, get that!” Wes called out as he heard the apartment door chime sound. He got an irate mechanical sound in response but he heard the main door sliding open a few moments later. It must be a visitor she thought he’d actually wanted to see.

He ignored the murmur of soft voices as unknown beings stepped into the unit, frowning instead at the pile of clothes on the bed. 

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Leia hovered in the doorway to the bedroom, giving him an awkward, hesitant smile. Her clothing was noticeably richer looking than what she’d worn last time she’s visited and her hair was bound up into an elaborate twist topped with an elegant silvery headpiece.

Wes stared at her in surprise, suddenly highly conscious of his bare feet, ratty clothes, and that he hadn’t showered in two days. He forced a smile onto his own face. “Just packing stuff up,” he said. “This unit’s too big for me alone so I’m moving.”

“Ah.”

Silence stretched between them. While Wes struggled to think of what to say, Leia visibly gathered herself and stepped up next to him. She reached out, picked up one of the shirts from the pile, and began to fold it.

“I decided to start with Hobbie’s stuff,” Wes said as he let himself dig back into the mound of clothing. “Probably a terrible decision but I couldn’t start packing my stuff up with his clothes hanging in the closet.”

Leia nodded as she set down a now-folded shirt and picked up another. “What are you going to do with it all?”

“That’s the challenge.” Wes stared at the shirt in his hands and then tossed it onto a pile on the floor. “Charities are overloaded with donations, as are resale stores, so I’m trying to mostly toss stuff or set things aside to send to my fo- to my mom. Extra clothes are always handy on a farm.”

“And the rest?”

A lump settled into his throat as he spotted a light blue shirt with a fairly vulgar phrase scrawled across the front. Hobbie hadn’t worn it much while deployed - he always got a disapproving look from Wedge or Tycho if he did - but it had been a favorite of his to wear while eating out or running errands here on Coruscant or on Tanaab. Hobbie had lived for the outrage that followed him around.

“I think I’ll end up hanging onto a few things,” he admitted. Picking up the shirt, Wes thumbed the worn, cracking lettering. “He was wearing this earlier that day. Spilled some rota rib sauce on it at lunch so it was in the wash when… when it happened.”

“Han was heading out to work on  _ Falcon _ with his favorite vest and jacket on. I don’t have much of his clothing left that was truly special to him.” 

Wes shifted to the side slightly so his arm rested against Leia’s. It hurt. It still hurt just as much as it had that day. No one seemed to be able to escape that day and the horrific, mysterious losses they’d all suffered.

“I envy you having so much of him left,” Leia said sadly. “We were just getting used to how things changed after I became the Chief of State. It took so much time to find the right balance. And now…”

Leia’s face crumbled and her hands clenched the shirt she’s been folding. Wes didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her rounded shoulders, then the other around her front. He pulled her against him and held her tight as she let out a sudden sob. 

Wes ignored the headpiece bumping into his cheek as Leia buried her face against the crook of his neck. Faint whimpers rumbled against his skin and shudders went through Leia’s body seemingly at random. She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so much but was trying so hard not to.

Did Leia have anyone on New Alderaan she could unwind with or vent her feelings at?

Probably not.

Wes shifted them over to a spot on the bed with a minimal amount of clothing piled on it. Once he was seated, he easily pulled Leia in his lap and held her close and tight again. He didn’t know if he could help her, not when most of his days of late were spent wanting to just escape the awful yawning gap that was Hobbie’s presence in his heart and the agony of the loss of his closest friends.

He must have done something right, though, because it wasn’t long before Leia started crying. It started small at first but soon her grief was pouring out in big, ugly tears with gross, snot filled sobs and sniffles. Half a year of silent pain and suffering came out, leaking all sorts of fluids on Wes’s shirt while he inadvertently crushed her nice dress and knocked her headpiece askew. 

“It’ll be okay,” he mumbled into her hair after a while. 

“No it won’t. And I know you don’t believe that.” Leia pulled back some, wiping tears off her face and further smearing her makeup across her face and hand. 

“Yeah, but it’s what everyone keeps saying, right? It has to come true eventually.”

“I wish it was that easy.” 

Leia sat slumped again him for a long while and Wes was perfectly okay with that. It had been a long, long time since he’d gotten to hold anyone. He missed the casual touches that used to fill his life: he felt half-starved by their absence. 

Eventually, Leia sighed and shifted away. She didn’t go far, choosing instead to simply shove more clothing to the side and to flop down next to him. He copied her and pressed close, suddenly desperate for physical contact. 

“How are you holding up?” Leia asked as they stared up at the ceiling. “In terms of sheer numbers, the Dusting took more of your family away than mine.”

“You lost  _ everyone-” _

“So did you. Your mother’s still around, one or two siblings, but that’s it. Your father, all your nieces and nephews, most of your siblings, as well as Wedge, Tycho, and Hobbie.”

Wes fixed his gaze on a small water stain on the ceiling. The more he could focus on Leia, the easier it was. Thinking about everyone  _ he’d _ lost…

A tremor began to course through him as he felt the horrific weight of loss and pain descending on him. It was crushing him, destroying him as more pain ate away at his insides. 

He was alone. They’d all be taken away from him. He  _ was alone. Completely alone. _

He didn’t have anything left.

He couldn’t rebuild from this.

Hobbie’s body dissolving into black dust replayed itself in vivid detail. He saw Hobbie rolling his eyes as he returned from the kitchen, drink in hand. A sudden pause, a peculiar expression flitting across his face, and then…

Then…

He…

Just…

Nothing…

Why was he even here? Why go through all this hassle and fresh grief trying to pack and move? 

**What was the point of it all?**

“Wes? I need you.”

The slow spiral of despair lurched to a confused halt. 

The Princess was speaking. And Wes was wired to immediately respond.

“Ma’am?” 

Leia sat up and gave him a familiar fierce look: her mission face. “Damp cloth with a little bit of soap, moisturizer, and a small towel. Now.”

He was moving towards the bathroom before his conscious mind even fully registered the order. 

He could follow orders. He was good at that. 

He could  _ always  _ follow her orders. 

Wes returned a few minutes later to find Leia handing her jewelry over to a familiar protocol droid and giving crisp orders to an annoyed looking security officer. 

“Um…” Wes offered Leia the requested items starting to feel a bit confused. She scrubbed hard and fast at her face, leaving pink skin behind as the makeup came off, then handed Wes the small damp cloth. After patting her skin dry with the other towel, she dabbed a small amount of moisturizer on her skin.

Everything was returned to Wes and she sent him marching back to the bathroom to put them away and to change clothes. When he returned again, Leia was pulling on a set of dull colored civvies and her fancy dress lay in a puddle on the floor. 

“We’re going out for dinner. Bring your blaster. Cliggan,” she nodded at her security officer, “has agreed to shadow us, but that also means his response time to a threat will be a little slower.”

“We’re doing what? No, you have to have better things to do-“

“Please. This gets me out of a very dull and pointless gathering. I should be thanking you.” Leia’s eyes were fierce as she looked at him, as though  _ he _ was her mission. “I want trashy, greasy fast food and to be around beings who don’t know or care that I’m the reigning queen of New Alderaan.”

Wes felt like his brain was skipping. “But- you are the queen-“

“Which is why you’ll be doing double duty as extra security. I want trashy, delicious food and I want to eat it with you.”

He was definitely missing something. “Okay?”

“Good.” 

Leia dug into a duffle bag he hadn’t seen before and pulled out a pair of thick socks and sturdy boots. As she began to work on the laces, Wes retrieved his jacket and blaster. 

There’s would be no stopping Leia right now. She was on a mission. A mission for greasy fast food, but a mission nonetheless. 

Wes couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out to eat, nor when he’d had any company when away from base. 

Going out with Leia and keeping an eye out for threats towards her was going to be… strange. Very strange. 

But also kind of nice.

They departed a few minutes later. Cliggan trailed unhappily behind them and kept glaring because Leia had tucked her arm through Wes’s arm, holding securely into him. Her civilian clothing included a slightly oversized brimmed cap hiding most of her hair and they really did look like a pair of friends or a new couple heading out of dinner. 

It was utterly bizarre. Wes hadn’t gone on a mission with Leia for years and none of them had been like  _ this. _

The lift doors snapped shut before Cliggan could get on and accompany them in their descent to a lower level and the outrage on the guard’s face had them both giggling moments later. 

As they hurtled downwards, Leia poked his side. “You’re responsible for making sure I get to eat out at least once per visit. Anytime we’re on the same planet, I demand a shared meal over something that makes doctors cringe. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wes said feeling somewhat bemused. The darkness that had been haunting his steps was pushed back some in the face of the Princess’s appointed mission. He could already feel himself lining up different eateries, dinners, and tapcafs to take her to, and speculating on how to extract her from her embassy to accompany him.

It felt good to have a mission. Something beyond putting out fires. And it seemed like it would get him an arm tucked through his and the brush of another leg reminding him he wasn’t completely alone. 

The lift slowed, stopped, and then the doors snapped open. 

“After you,” Wes said gesturing towards the opening. Meanwhile, his free hand hovered near his blaster and his eyes were scanning their surroundings for danger. He stepped out after Leia and had to fight back a laugh. 

He might actually enjoy this.


	3. Year Two - 13 ABY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, impregnation, sex contracf

Wes’s nerves were prickling in brand new ways as he followed his droid guide into the depths of the modest New Alderaanian Royal Mansion. He’d been out of his depth before but never like this. 

He’s gone on leave by himself every now and then before.

He’s been in palaces.

He’s dealt with royalty, courtiers, and various snobby hangers-on.

He’s never gone  _ anywhere _ with a goal of completing something like the contract on the datacard tucked into one of his pockets. He and Leia had been messaging back and forth about it for months, slowly tweaking it to suit both themselves and the other beings it involved. There were significant legal considerations. Rights. Genetics. Guidance for future interactions and so on.

This was completely insane and it showed how kriffed up the galaxy was that Leia had even proposed this. That it was needed. The first month of correspondence had been focused solely on making the idea seem  _ less insane _ and actually practical and doable. Historical precedent be damned. Wes wasn’t Alderaanian and hadn’t grown up with the idea. And no matter what the contract said, this would definitely change things between himself and Leia. Especially with the subclause that left the door open to possible future repetition if everything went well.

At least it was pretty late at night here. There weren’t a bunch of members of the court hanging around to stare at him and whisper.

His and Leia’s friendship was fairly well known at this point. Leia’s status as the former New Republic Chief of State, the Queen of New Alderaan, and being one of the “faces” the galaxy had decided represented the suffering caused by the Day of Dust meant the sludgenews, tabvids, and gossip Holonet shows frequently featured her. And it became clear pretty early on that she didn’t spend all her waking moments in the New Alderaan embassy when she was on Coruscant. 

Wes’s own status in the galactic eye had been inevitably elevated through his association with Leia and he hated the frequent gossiping that tried to turn their friendship into a thousand different things. 

It was pretty simple: they were both former Rebels. They were friends via several other persons, Dusted and not. And Wes’s lack of political interests meant he was one of the few people in the galaxy who didn’t see being friends with Leia as a means to an end. They just liked spending time together.

They didn’t have to pretend with each other and they both knew how to keep their mouths shut, which resulted in a safe place to vent about the different pressure they both faced in their daily lives. 

Leia was tasked with the heavy burden of ruling a highly traumatized population on a newly settled planet while Wes planned and led his, and sometimes other, squadrons through skirmishes against pirates and private planetary defense forces preying on their neighbors. They both routinely dealt with classified information and had hundreds of petty annoyances eating away at them on top of the ever present pain of their lost loved ones.

Ultimately, they just fit together. As much as anyone did barely a year after the galaxy had been ripped asunder.

Wes recognized the door to Leia’s personal chambers as the droid rolled to a stop. He’d been here a few times, just not enough to be able to successfully navigate his way through the e twisting, confusing corridors of the Royal Mansion. 

(Apparently there was a big push to build Leia a proper palace. She kept saying “No” and insisting the resources that would require be used elsewhere. Thusly, the Governor’s Mansion had been redubbed the Royal Mansion once Leia had moved in. So far, it worked and Wes would probably be able to find his way around if he could stay for more than a few days.)

The door slid open as Wes nervously reached for the door chime and Winter smiled at him from the other side. 

“Please, come in,” the white haired woman said warmly.

“Thanks. I didn’t realize you would have the time off to be here,” Wes said as he stepped across the threshold.

“It seemed prudent to be available,” Winter replied calmly and Wes felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck at the reminder that his visit  _ wasn’t _ purely social. “We had a small meal set aside for you. If you have no need to further discuss the contract, I can serve as your signing witness. If you’d prefer to speak with Leia first, however, I can ask her to join you once she has finished preparing for bed. There are no… expectations for tonight in either scenario unless you wish to proceed immediately.”

Wes nervously palmed the datacard in his pocket as he followed Winter to the dining area. “I might need to babble nervously at you for a while but I’m okay signing it now,” he said. “We’ve been going over this for months. It’s just, you know, kind of a weird concept.”

“It’s not common on Alderaan but also not unfamiliar,” Winter said. She stepped aside and gestured towards the elegant round wooden table where he’d shared breakfast with Leia during his handful of previous visits. As Winter had stated, a small selection of fruit, bread, and some kind of hot dish was waiting for him. “It’s well known enough that Leia has actually received several offers for this service. After taking time to consider it, she decided it was the best way to move forward so long as she could secure an agreeable partner.”

“There weren’t any Alderaanian men she could, uh, use? I’m kind of…” Wes hesitated for a moment as he sat down. “Well, a violent guy. Compared to Alderaanian ideal, I mean.”

“As is Leia,” Winter replied, taking a seat across from him. “And what she needs is a reliable partner who is also politically safe. Your acts of violence have been performed in the name of securing freedom for the galaxy and liberation from tyranny. Alderaanians desire peace through pacifism but we are also familiar with the dangers in the galaxy.” Winter smiled. “You’re an honorable man, a high ranking officer in the New Republic, and a long time friend of Leia’s. There is no one better, not in this changed galaxy.”

Wes paused right before biting into his tasty spiced meat dish and groaned. “I’m getting involved with politics, aren’t I?”

“Only somewhat. This arrangement will provide you with some degree of detachment. That is, in fact, part of the appeal. If anything, your mother will be far more intimately involved.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t matter what the contract said about my rights as the genetic donor,” Wes snorted before taking a bite. He chewed, swallowed, then continued. “As soon as my mother hears that Leia is pregnant and that I‘m responsible, she’ll be beating down the door. Especially since her other grandkids were… well.”

“Indeed. Tycho used to relay some of your stories about her. She should prove to be a delightful addition to court.” 

A crack in Winter’s normally serene facade appeared as she remembered the former Rogue pilot. They’d never made things formal, but Wes knew Winter and Tycho had been in love for years and years. Losing him after so much turmoil in their lives must have been especially painful.

“I can sign whenever,” Wes said after a few moments.

Winter nodded and took a deep breath as she gathered herself, then rose to fetch the necessary datawork. 

Wes skimmed through the contract while he finished eating, making sure it matched the version he carried with him. The terms were clear: Wes would provide Leia with the necessary genetic material to produce a child. He was entitled to a certain amount of financial compensation upon the delivery of a healthy and intact child (a proviso he felt unnecessary but was apparently standard for this sort of thing), he agreed to waive parental rights, and avowed any claim for himself or any of his other descendents or relatives to the throne of Alderaan or the House of Organa. 

Han Solo would be listed as the child’s father (just not the genetic sire) on public records and, in what was a unique twist, Wes’s mother had been granted non-royal bloodline rights. She would be acknowledged as the child’s grandmother and named its primary guardian should anything happen to Leia herself.

There were no conditions for how the child would be conceived and a subclause left open the possibility of extending the contract in the future for more children.

Wes had never really wanted to be a father, which theoretically made this scenario ideal. And as Winter had stated, contracting to become the genetic sire (only) for a child was a familiar concept on Alderaan. It would create a new family for Leia, provide a sense of stability and security for New Alderaan through the creation of a living heir to the throne, and be a spark of new life to inspire everyone. 

Children were considered so precious these days, especially out here on the outer rim where resources were scarcer.

There were other provisions digging into the details: matters such as completing re-conception genetic screening, conditions for how he could and couldn’t interact with the child in the future, and precise definitions for different terms in thr contract. All in all, it matched the last document Wes had reviewed and agreed to. Once he signed, he was committed. 

Downing the last of the food, Wes took a moment to wipe his mouth clean before nodding at Winter. “I’m ready.”

* * *

Leia was small and warm beside him. She already seemed to be asleep and looked far more relaxed than she had in a long, long time. Wes should have been copying her but found his brain buzzing unhelpfully at him.

The act of copulation had been quite pleasant, actually. More than he’d expected given the dull legalese that had preceded it. There really wasn’t anything to the tabvid rumors about them but the intimacy they’d acquired over the last year or so definitely went a long way to making the evening proceed quite smoothly. 

The only real hitch that had occurred was that they’d both briedly struggled to use the right names. They were each living forever in the shadow of lost loves and even as different as the act had been from what they’d shared with their previous partners, sexual intimacy was forever tied to them. 

In it’s own way, though, it was one of the things that had made this work. They weren’t trying to start a relationship; they were attempting to conceive a child and thinking of someone else, even momentarily, didn’t interfere with that. It was okay to still be hurting. And that sense of safety wouldn’t have been possible with many others.

Leia shifted beside him, rolling onto her side to look up at him in the dark room. “You can leave if you want,” she said softly. “If it would help you sleep.”

“No, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“You?” Leia teased and Wes gave her a look of mock indignation.

“I have had to get in the habit these days.”

That made Leia laugh and that was a good sound. Wes relaxed next to her and let a hand trail down her side, remembering what they’d been doing a little while earlier. She moved easily beneath him, arching up into his touch slightly in clear invitation. 

Wes felt his interest stir again and he couldn’t resist bending down to kiss her. Unlike earlier, Wes soon found himself pressed back against the bed clothes as Leia climbed on top of him. Her thighs were wet with his seed, triggering a surge of lust as he considered his purpose in sharing her bed.

His hips surged upwards to meet her as she sank down on him, then began to eagerly rock with her as she began to ride. In a galaxy still wracked with pain, it was intoxicating to be here helping to create something new. His doubts and worries from earlier would probably return but for now, he wanted nothing more than to give Leia everything she needed and more.

She was beautiful as she moved above him. Her hair was bound in a simple braid that trailed down her back onto the bed, her body small but strong. She rode him eagerly, head tipped back as she sought out her own pleasure and Wes wanted nothing more than to learn how best to touch her and please her. Pregnancy wasn’t easy and he wanted her to look back at their coupling with fondness, not regret. 

Leia’s energy began to flag some after a while and Wes sympathized. He knew from personal experience how one’s thighs began to burn and muscles scream from the strain of riding someone bigger than yourself. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she huffed slightly before grinning. 

They rearranged themselves on the bed, this time with Leia on her back beneath him. Before driving back inside her, Wes reached between her legs and slipped two fingers inside her, deliberately moving them around and making her whimper and moan. It was strange fingering a naturally slick passage; it had been years since he’d bedded anyone besides Hobbie and he couldn’t help but think of how much his spouse would have enjoyed tasting Wes’s seed on and inside Leia’s body. 

He thrust his fingers again, harder this time and bit back a groan as he felt his finger glide through not just feminine lubricant, but also semen.  _ His _ semen. 

A surge of possessiveness filled him and Wes quickly replaced his fingers with his cock. Leia gasped as he speared her and then she pulled him down for a kiss as he drove into her. They eventually parted and Wes redoubled his efforts as he braced his hands on either side of her head. His cock thrust rapidly into her, gliding effortlessly in and out of her body. Her deceptively delicate hands moved, one groping at her breast and the other sliding between their bodies to touch her clit. Wes paused long enough to let her find herself before he returned to his quick, eager thrusts. 

Soon, her body began to squeeze around him and her breath started coming faster and faster. Wes redoubled his efforts, working hard to match her rhythm. He was out of practice topping but determined to see her finish before he did. He thrust a bit harder, going a bit deeper but alert not to go so deep it hurt her. 

He was rewarded by the sight, sound, and feeling of her coming around him a short while later. Leia’s back arched beneath him, her legs jerking as her passage clenched down around his cock. The sound of her cry and the hands that clutched at his arms were what ended him. With a cry of his own, Wes thrust deep into her, his hips jerking as he came and began to fill her up.

Leia held him close with strong legs and Wes deliberately lingered as his body unclenched. 

“Pillow,” she murmured as he tried not to go limp above her. 

Obligingly, Wes found the small bolster pillow they’d used before and placed it under her hips as they temporarily shifted upwards. Only once her pelvis was tilted upwards did Wes pull out with a small groan and collapse beside her. 

Almost in spite of himself, Wes reached out and touched her inner thighs. They were even more soaked than before, wet with the seed that had been drivin out of her during sex. And now, they’d replaced what had been lost and it was possible that within a week, new life would be growing inside her. 

Leia reached down and took his hand, shifting it to rest directly between her legs. “I wouldn’t mind a little more,” she said as he carefully stroked her clit. 

If he’d been younger, Wes might have been able to be ready for a new round in relatively short order. He wasn’t, though, so instead, he moved between her legs and lowered himself down until his face hovered right above her. 

Wes started slowly. It had been a long, long time since he’d done this for a woman. The taste of come on his tongue made him think again of Hobbie and his spouse’s more unique passions and he had to rather determinedly push those memories away so he could focus on Leia. She began to moan beneath him, hips rocking slightly as he began to lick and suck at her clit. He wanted to drive his fingers into her and find all her sweet spots but had to resist so he didn’t dislodge the come still inside her. 

Instead of burying his tongue inside her, he grabbed her legs and pulled her body upwards until she was partially balanced on her shoulders and crying out while he continued to work away at her. He pleasured her as best he could until she couldn’t take any more. Orgasm rolled out of her like a wave, her body jerking against his. Thanks to the position he was holding her in, the come stayed safe inside her and he eventually lowered her down, carefully ensuring her hips came to rest on the rather messy bolster pillow. 

Leia looked at him with heavy eyes, her hand reaching out to touch the mixture of semen and female lubricant on his face. “Han always-”

She cut herself off, jaw snapping shut. 

A familiar flash of sympathy hit Wes. They couldn’t escape all these moments, big and small, that reminded them of what they had lost. He gave her a rueful smile. “I could tell you chapter and verse how Hobbie would have done that,” he said softly.

“And Han always had an opinion on everything,” Leia responded. A look of understanding came over her and Wes shifted close so they were spooned together. It was nice having someone here with him, he had to admit. 

Leia pulled his hand onto her lower abdomen and he sighed, closing his eyes as he imagined feeling her stomach bulge and a tiny baby kicking as it danced inside her. 

His child. But also not. They would know each other but not be responsible for each other. The distance would afford a degree of protection for them both that history showed would probably be necessary. Leia’s children had targeted for kidnapping before even being born. It would be better for them all if Wes wasn’t a conduit through which malevolent forces could work.

Leia and Winter were both confident that this would work ad he trusted them both. 

“You don’t have to stay,” Leia said, repeating her words from earlier. 

He shook his head. “I want to be here.”

“I’m glad.” Leia sighed and snuggled as close as she could in her current position. 

They lay together for a long while in the darkness, feeling satiated and content.

“I’m glad it’s you.” she whispered after a while. “This would have been hard with someone else. Even if I’d decided to go for more clinical means of conception.”

“I think we both needed this,” Wes agreed. “I don’t know what I’ll do after this, but… I’m glad to be here. Really.”

“I keep worrying that this is a mistake,” Leia whispered. “I couldn’t protect the twins or Anakin in the end. What if it happens again?”

“Things are different now,” Wes replied. He hugged her tight. “And you’ll have my mom here to help. She’ll happily throw anyone who comes at this child out the window and laugh. She’s unbelievably tough. And I know she’ll love both of you.”

Leia rolled onto her side, awkwardly rearranging her legs as she moved. “You’re giving me so much,” she said as she buried her face in his neck. “And I’m hardly giving you anything in return.”

“You’ve given me a reason to keep going. Just being your friend has been unbelievably wonderful. And this? This is a chance to be with you without feeling like I’m cheating on Hobbie.” Wes returned Leia’s embrace. “The Rogues need me. Gavin’s not ready to lead, not quite yet, and Inyri’s not confident enough to start training to be his second. I don’t- I don’t think I could have kept going without you. I’d hear stories about people ending it and… It was calling to me. It really was. You’ve kept me going when I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

Leia looked up at him, her eyes sad but understanding. “There aren’t a lot of us old Rebels left. It’s important we stick together. And I’ve always known I can count on the Rogues.”

“We’ll always be at your beck and call, Princess. Always.”

“I’m a queen, you know.”

“Here, sure. But for us? You’ll always be our Princess, the heart of the Rebellion.” Wes nuzzled her neck. “We always knew we could count on you to be there. You’d negotiate, debate, or just shoot your way to us if we needed you and we never, ever doubted you.”

Leia angled her head to better receive his gesture of affection, her voice somewhat breathy when she spoke. “Sounds like you had me on quite the pedestal.”

“Well, you are pretty short. Something was needed to bring you to eye leve-  _ Owww!” _

Wes squealed as she twisted his ear, but his eyes were dancing and he was quick to retaliate with clever fingers tickling her sides. 

Soon enough, the bolster was kicked aside as Wes moved back on top of her and their bodies came together again. 

* * *

Outside, sitting near the bedroom door, Winter nodded in quiet approval at the renewed sounds of sex and soft giggling floated through the small comlink fixed to her collar. She trusted Wes; he wouldn’t have made it through the door in the first place if she didn’t, but it was better for both him and Leia if someone was ready to intervene if something went wrong. They were all too emotionally fragile to go it alone.

This was good. She hadn’t heard Leia make such sounds of joy in so long, and she’d spoken with Gavin about his concerns for his commanding officer. This night and the ones that would follow were going to be healing for both of them.

They all needed support if they were to continue, or perhaps begin, healing. And this was a wonderful start.


	4. Year Two - 13 ABY

It was only with years of practice that kept a welcoming and engaged expression on Leia’s face as the leaders of the Alderaanian Council continued to natter on. They’d concluded official business some time ago but somehow, her councilors always had more to say.

“Lastly,” Counselor Ivrea said, “we would be overjoyed to begin preparations for the celebration of the arrival of the Royal Heir. Would your majesty like to provide any guidance for the event in addition to what is custom?” Ivrea looked at her, his somewhat watery eyes hopeful as he fished for information. 

Leia simply smiled. “I see no reason to depart from custom,” she said calmly. “The naming ceremony is centuries old, after all, and has served the ruling family well.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

“Will the sire be available to attend?” Counselor Cotoner asked. She was older than most of the counsel and far more shrewd, carefully attempting to move one of her sons into a position where they caught Leia’s eye.

“As per the conditions of the gene sire contract,” Leia said, resting her hand in her swollen belly, “the father is Han Solo. The donor is simply that - a donor.”

“Ah, but surely your friendship with the colonel is such that you would like-“

“The contract is set, Counselor,” Leia interrupted. Her eyes narrowed as she rubbed at her stomach and sent soothing feelings towards the sudden agitated kicking inside her. “The only exception the colonel requested from the standard contract was on behalf of his mother, Lady Kotone. She shall be present at the ceremony. He will not.”

The expressions of the counselors became rather fixed (and some strained) at the mention of Kotone Janson. The woman had arrived at court barely a month earlier and it had been like setting a nexu loose in a nerf pasture. She’d settled into the political realm like a natural, albeit one with an unusually intense love of violence. The similarities between her and Wes had become obvious quite quickly, as were their differences. 

Wes had restraint. Kotone went straight for the jugular and didn’t let go until her foe was destroyed, and it took very little for someone to _ become _ her enemy.

Adding on the fact that Kotone had apparently grown up in a culture that used duels to settle matters made her an explosive addition to court. Fortunately, no one had actually died yet.

“Are there any other matters to attend to?”

“Ah, no, your Majesty,” Ivrea said. 

Nodding serenely, Leia activated a small button on her chair. The chair glided backwards while the seat began to tilt forward, helping her to her feet. With two months remaining in her pregnancy, Leia was already fairly large and encumbered, so she appreciated having whatever help she could get. 

The counselors all stood as she did and Leia gave them all a gracious nod as she swept (well, waddled) out of the room. 

Leia was tired, sore, and despairing that she couldn’t see her own feet. It crushed her every morning to wake up alone and needing a servant to help her to the bathroom. She had plenty of assistance getting dressed but ached that it wasn’t Han smirking mischievously up at her as he laced comfortable shoes up around her swollen feet. This was the easiest pregnancy she’s ever had, but also the worst because she was alone.

She’d even had fleeting thoughts of asking Wes to come stay and help her. But she couldn’t. Even if he wasn’t halfway across the galaxy from her, even if he wasn’t trying to help stop a border war that had spread through an entire sector with Rogue Squadron, even if he could somehow get more than an odd week here and there off on leave…

She couldn’t ask. It would be a step too far. She was already asking him to emotionally distance himself from his own offspring. Asking him to sit and take care of her and the result of their union while maintaining that distance would be both impossible and cruel. 

She’d see him sometime after the birth. And she had to be content with that. They both did. 

Resolutely pushing thoughts of Wes aside, Leia headed for her apartments. Specifically, the nursery. 

Lady Kotone Janson was critically overseeing a hovering housekeeping droid as is hung pieces of bright and cheerful art on the walls when Leia entered. Her dark red dress looked heavy with its long sleeves, ornate trim, and embroidered details swirling around the long skirt. It was entirely appropriate for court yet also far bolder than current fashion on New Alderaan. And really, that defined Kotone more than anything else. She made her own clothes, making only small nods towards galactic fashion trends while deliberately defining her own style. 

Kotone’s new position in court was accompanied by a relatively minor non-hereditary barony. Sufficient rank for the grandmother of Royalty but not excessive for her status as a non-Alderaanian. There had been snickers about how a meak farmer’s wife would obviously be overwhelmed at court. That idea had been demolished within minutes of Kotone’s arrival. She had charisma to spare and an internal strength and confidence that led to her meeting the gaze of the various lordlings without hesitation or fear. She didn’t suffer fools and made it clear almost immediately that she would support Leia however she could. 

Leia received a warm smile in greeting, the lingering marks of grief briefly lifting from Kotone’s face. She had been thrilled at the news of Leia’s pregnancy and kept her disapproval that Wes would not being acknowledged as the father to herself. She understood the political complexity of the situation, after all, and after a brief conversation confirming that the contract would not be changed, she’d left the matter be. 

Dismissing the droid after it finished hanging one of the pieces Leia had selected with a quick flick of her hand, Kotone glided over and gave Leia a side embrace. The contact was warm and comforting, and Leia was relieved to rest her head against Kotone’s shoulder for a few moments to enjoy this moment of maternal affection. It helped that Kotone wasn’t actually that much taller than her - not even eight centimeters.

“Here, get your feet up,” Kotone eventually said. Without hesitation, she gently steered Leia towards the glider sitting under the window and helped her to sit and get her feet up on the footrest. The older woman then adjusted the curtains to block the sunlight streaming into the room before sitting in a matching chair angled towards Leia’s.

Getting off her feet and elevating them felt wonderful. Leia relaxed into the plush seat and let her head loll back. As her gaze brushed over the window, her lips quirked at a small scuff mark on the wooden trim.

Kotone let out a small irritated sound as she followed Leia’s gaze and produced a datapad from a pocket in her dress. “I’ll make sure that gets cleaned up.”

“It’s fine,” Leia said in amusement. 

As was tradition, Leia hadn’t shared the details of her pregnancy with, well, anyone really. Kotone knew, as did Winter and Almira, Leia’s newest aide. As was also tradition, members of the court were doing their best to suss out what details they could about the pregnancy. One enterprising fellow had attempted to sneak a peek at the nursery to see what he could intuit from the decor. Unfortunately for him, Kotone had arrived three days earlier and happily took over setting up the nursery for Leia. The gentleman who tried to poke his head in was escorted out of the room by way of the window at such a speed that he didn’t recall seeing anything but brightly colored blurs.

Fortunately for him, the nursery was on the second floor of the mansion and a rather large bush sat below the window, so he escaped with only a fractured wrist, sprained ankle, and lots of bruises.

The nursery had been out-of-bounds for games of court intrigue ever since. Well, one more attempt had been made a few nights after the “bush” incident. Leia didn’t know the details, simply that Kotone had been waiting inside for such a thing and the offending person had departed court the next day with a severe case of broken nerves.

Kotone had settled into the life of an idle noble with ease, but that didn’t erase having spent the past thirty years helping run a working farm. She was small but frighteningly strong.

“How are you?” Kotone asked after she finished making a note on her datapad.

“Well, tired,” Leia said as she began to idly rock her chair. “It’s been a long day and there’s always another meeting or crisis or enraged ambassador I apparent just have to meet with. It’s better than when I was on Coruscant, though. So there’s there.”

“You must have been constantly running around, then,” Kotone noted with an arched brow. 

“It certainly seemed that way. At least here, I get to assign committees rather than ben on them.”

Kotone was watching her closely and Leia suddenly recognized the light of mischief in her dark eyes that she’d seen so often in Wes’s. 

“What is it?” Leia asked warily, halting the rocking motion.

“You have a guest. One I think you’ll be happy to see,” Kotone said grinning. “He had to run to the refresher slightly before you arrived or he would have been here to greet you.”

“Who-” 

“Leia?” 

“Luke!”

Her brother smiled as he entered the nursery, quietly closing the door behind him and gesturing for her to remain seated. She hadn’t sensed his arrival on-planet. Of course, Leia’s had kept her Force sense as suppressed as much she could ever since the Day of Dust. The pain of the galaxy was too much to bear otherwise. Here, though, she cautiously opened herself back up to the Force, wenching open the connection just enough to be able to reach beyond herself to Luke.

“You look terrible,” Leia said after Luke straightened up from embracing her. 

Luke started to answer, then paused as Kotone rose, waving fingers in silent good-bye before leaving to give them their privacy. After the door had been shut once more, Luke sat down on the glider’s footstool, resting his arms on his legs and letting his spine relax.

“The Force is still roiling from the Dusting,” he said. “Corran and I are taking turns exploring the galaxy to try and find something to explain what happened. Some places are calmer than others in the Force, others worse. We’re charting it as best we can to try and find a pattern, but so far we haven’t had any luck.”

“I know Tionne has been researching Jedi lore. Are there any records of something like the Day of Dust ever happening before?” Leia asked.

Luke shook his head. His hair was shaggy and his face worn. “There’s nothing. My students and I spend a lot of time in meditation, trying to understand what the Force is showing us, but we have nothing concrete yet. Whatever caused the Day of Dust was completely unnatural. It will be years, I think, before the Force doesn’t feel so… damaged.”

Leia shook her head. “I don’t envy you what you’re going through trying to understand what happened. Or having to feel the galaxy scream all the time,” she added, shivering.

Without speaking, Luke stood and picked up a nearby receiving blanket, which he set down on Leia’s shoulders. She hugged the soft fabric to herself, taking comfort in both the warmth the blanket provided and the quiet affection Luke had for her. 

“I haven’t been a very good brother, have I?” he asked somewhat ruefully after seating himself on the footstool again. “I’m sorry for that. I let myself get distracted from what should have been my main priority: my family.”

“Everything was such a mess,” Leia said, shaking her head. “There were very few of us able to really react and handle what was going on. And you did a lot of good in the months afterwards. I certainly can’t object to that.”

“But I wasn’t there for you,” Luke argued softly. “And I should have been.”

“Well, I wasn’t completely alone.”

“That much is obvious.” Luke’s voice was dry and he grinned, giving a small nod to her swollen looking stomach. “How is Wes?”

“Hating how well he’s settled into being both a colonel and Rogue Leader,” Leia answered. Wes may not have been able to visit (for multiple reasons) but they did exchange messages fairly frequently.

“I never would have thought I’d see the day Wes accept that promotion. I wish he hadn’t had to.” 

They shared a brief look before Leia sighed and propped her feet back up on the footstool, poking at Luke’s hip to make him shift over some. 

“How are you? All of you?” Luke asked.

“You can’t tell?”

“I’d rather you tell me.”

“We’re all just fine so far,” Leia said. Her hand came to rest on her stomach again and she couldn’t help but smile at the fluttering, shapeless acknowledgement as the babies growing inside her felt the pressure of her hand. “It’s twins again so I already look like I’m due despite having two months left. Speculation around court is torn between guessing I’m having multiples or simply that I’m this large because I’m so small.”

“I don’t remember you being this big with Jacen and Jaina,” Luke said. “Of course, there was a lot going on then.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Leia snorted. “As long as I don’t have to clutch tightly to a Wookie carrying us out of danger by climbing underneath a branch of a wroshyr tree, I’ll be quite happy.”

“Such lofty goals.”

Leia kicked him. Gently. Sort of. “Shut up.” Luke grinned, his unrepentant amusement lighting up his face and Leia felt her heart soar. It was _ so good _to have Luke here. “How long can you stay?”

“I was thinking about two or three months,” he said. “Corran and Kam have the Temple well in hand and I do want to make up to you for having been gone so long.”

“Really? You can stay that long?” Leia asked hopefully.

“I may not have many Jedi yet, but I do have enough to send out if something comes up.” Luke rested a hand on one of her feet, squeezing it briefly. “I really do want to be here.”

An unexpected hitch tore it’s way free and Leia felt tears prickling her eyes. She knew this was mostly hormones; she cried at the drop of a hat these days. To have Luke here, though. To not be _ so alone _ while she neared the end of this pregnancy - it was all she’d wanted. 

“You have to stay for the naming ceremony,” she insisted. “I want the twins to meet their uncle as they’re named.”

“I’d be honored.”

“Good. Then help me up. We need to go find Kotone.”

Luke helped her to her feet and offered her his arm. “Why’s that?”

“You look terrible,” Leia said, repeating her words from earlier. She reached up and tugged on an unruly lock of hair. “You need a haircut, a shave, and new clothes. You need to look like a Jedi, not a homeless vagabond squatting in the Royal Mansion, so I’m going to set her loose on you.”

“I’ll have you know that I look a lot like Ben did back in the day,” Luke said indignantly as they left the nursery. 

“What day? When he was a homeless vagabond on Tatooine?”

“He had a house.” There was a beat of silence. “With a mostly broken sonic shower.”

“Ah, so he was actually a rather whiffy, sandy hermit?”

“Exactly.” 

It was good to hear Luke laugh. It was good to have him hear. For once, Leia could leave herself open to the Force and not be overcome with the pain still tearing through the galaxy. Luke was a bright, shining presence in the Force, even now, and one she could take shelter and comfort in.

“I really am glad you’re here, Luke. Thank you for coming.”

“I’m happy to. And I’m going to do better going forward. I promise.”

“I know you will.” 

And she did know. She could feel it.


	5. Year Three - 14 ABY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been staring at this chapter for months. I'm so glad to finally put a cap on it.

The party seemed to be going well, at least. Leia smiled graciously as a newly arrived couple greeted her, expressing their thanks for the invitation. Then they were gone, disappearing into the crowd to enjoy a night of bright lights, beautiful music, and delicious food. 

This was a rare event, after all. Leia was mindful of how much of the galaxy was still suffering from food shortages and how there were still places on New Alderaan that needed help. Putting on regular lavish gatherings for the rich and powerful was an appalling thought, not to mention insulting to those still struggling to get by.

Still, there were moments where such events were unavoidable. And at least this one had its own form of unexpected entertainment.

Borsk Fey’lya was stumbling a bit more than usual as he led his partner around the dance floor. His back was stiff and fur twitching slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. Then he stumbled, wincing, before murmuring a polite apology as Kotone Janson “accidentally” stepped on his foot again. 

The Bothan’s toes and shins were going to be thoroughly bruised by the end of the night, especially given that members of the court had noticed Kotone’s sly acts of (minor) assault and some probably planned on following her lead.

A sudden squeak sounded from around her chest and Leia looked down in amusement as little Bria blinked, then sneezed. The small baby looked disgruntled at having her dinner interrupted. Beside her, Leia’s new aide, Almira, produced a small soft cloth and offered it to Leia, who wiped Bria’s face before helping her to latch back on and resume nursing. Leaning against Almira, Breha had already eaten and was now happily gumming away at a textured teething ring, her small pudgy hands gripping the yellow and orange toy while she watched the dancers with wide eyes.

It was nice to have an excuse not to have to take the lead in entertaining Fey’lya. Kotone had happily seized on that task, her dark eyes glittering with barely suppressed glee as she remembered every slight and insult the Bothan had offered Leia and her own son. It was perfectly appropriate for Leia’s unofficial mother-in-law to take over host duties while Leia minded Bria and Breha. Bothan culture may not hold with having children at state events (or the open nursing of infants) but Alderaanian culture had always held families in high regard. It was a matriarchal culture, after all, and children were a welcome sign of peace and prosperity.

Leia wished the rest of the galaxy was so open minded about such things. She hadn’t been able to do this with Jacen and Jaina. 

Polite applause echoed through the room as the musicians brought the cheerful jig to an end. Fey’lya quickly made his way over to Leia, Kotone smiling serenely on his arm. The Bothan was limping slightly. 

“Thank you, Representative, that was lovely,” Kotone said once they reached Leia. Clasping Fey’lya’s hand, she gave him a small, elegant bow before turning to Almira and bending over to coo at Breha.

Leia sensed a flicker of discomfort from the Bothan as she continued to nurse Bria. “I’m sorry I couldn’t join you, Borsk,” she said. “The dance looked wonderful.”

“It was certainly… memorable.” 

Perhaps it was the Force, perhaps it was the years she’d been forced to work with Fey’lya, but Leia could easily see how irritated he was. But also somehow smug? He was up to something, she realized. 

Fey’lya smiled, his eyes flickering over to Kotone. “Thank you for hosting such a welcoming reception, Leia. I’m sure that we will have little trouble gathering allies to help us convince the Corellian Sector to keep its borders open.”

“New Alderaan is happy to support the New Republic in this,” Leia replied. “I hope to be able to introduce Bria and Breha to their father’s homeworld once they’re old enough.”

“Ah, yes. Han Solo is still listed as their father despite their genetics.” Borsk peered down at Bria, an ear twitching slightly as he watched the infant suckle away at Leia’s breast. 

“Alderaanian culture has never placed technicalities ahead of family,” Leia said, her voice calm but pointed. 

“Of course. Adoption and family are quite important on Bothawui, as I’m sure you know.” Borsk straightened up and cast a look at Kotone. “In fact, I have a little surprise lined up for your children’s, ah, grandmother, if she’s willing to participate.”

Kotone gave Borsk a piercing look, her dark eyes suspicious. Breha babbled happily in her arms, chubby fingers poking at the embroidery decorating the bodice of her dress. It was impressive how well she pretended she hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“How kind, Representative,” she said, passing Breha back to Almira. “I’m sure it will be delightful, whatever it is.”

Borsk clasped his hands behind his back, turning slightly so he could glance out at the assembly and busy dance floor. “Alderaan’s culture has always been one of the many wonders of the galaxy,” he began, carefully pitching his voice a bit louder. “It’s dedication to the arts is well known, as are various unique customs relating to said arts.”

The busy crowd settled down as more attendees stopped to listen to the New Republic Chief Representative speak. Fey’lya smiled graciously, delighted to be the center of such rapt attention. “It is fitting that Lady Kotone spent many years in her youth dabbling in the realm of musical entertainment. Indeed, the director of the Curasdi Opera Company on Coruscant still remembers her voice amongst the chorus. It so happened, actually, that Trosk Du’reha had a conversation about the good lady with the director less than a month ago. After Trosk recounted the discussion to me, why, I simply had to invite him to accompany me.”

“Trosk Du’reha,” Kotone repeated, her expression oddly blank.

A murmur went up amongst the crowd. Du’reha was a prominent Bothan singer, well known for his brilliant performances in the Bothan operas that had become more popular on the galactic capital planet since Fey’lya’s ascension to the highest seat of power. Such performers were well respected on New Alderaan… and carried with them a certain degree of influence.

Fey’lya made a beckoning gesture and a new Bothan appeared, followed by two New Republic Starfighter Command officers. The Bothan bowed, his graying black fur glistening with hidden colors under the bright overhead lights. 

“Your majesty, I am Trosk Du’reha. I am honored to walk on a world such as New Alderaan.” Straightening, Du’reha solemnly and calmly met Leia’s eyes. There was a hint of mischief in his dark gaze but no ill intent. Unlike Fey’lya, he was unperturbed by her open nursing of her child. 

“If it would please you,” he continued in a rich, rumbling voice, “I would ask Lady Kotone to join me in a brief performance. Your musicians have kindly agreed to retire with us for a short while to prepare and allow junior guild members to temporarily take over entertaining your guests.”

“You wish the lady to perform for this assembly with little to no warning or practice?” Leia asked, suddenly feeling quite protective of the older woman. She’d heard Kotone sing soft songs to the twins and had seen a brief clip of one of her performances from years earlier. It had featured very little singing, a great deal of exposed flesh, and Kotone whipping her hair through the air in a fashion that was apparently called  _ head banging. _

Leia could see Fey’lya’s plan now. He still felt threatened by her and sought to tweak her nose, so to speak, by embarrassing Kotone in front of the assembled musicians from the Guild and members of the New Alderaanian court. He’d brought one of the galaxy’s finest singers with him as his weapon of choice.

“That sounds delightful!” Kotone smiled, looking eager. She paused, bending over to kiss Breha’s nose, before rising and stepping down next to Du’reha. “I can’t wait to hear what song you’ve selected for us to perform.” With a small wave, Kotone swept away with Du’reha beside her.

“I’m so grateful to the lady,” Fey’lya said in a cheerful voice. “This shall be quite delightful.”

After a few more minutes of small talk, Fey’lya stepped away to speak with a visiting ambassador, leaving Leia to hide how she was fuming. 

“Your majesty,” another voice spoke up, jolting Leia briefly out of her simmering rage. Wes grinned at her, looking dignified and respectable in his decorated dress uniform. He gestured to the officer next to him. “I’m sure you remember Major Inyri Forge.”

“One of Rogue Squadron’s wing leaders, I believe,” Leia said, settling back in her seat. It was odd seeing Wes with his (genetic) child nursing at her chest and them both having to cleave to the mores of courtly manners.

“Yes, ma’am,” Inyri replied. Her eyes flickered from Bria to Wes and back again. Well, it wasn’t exactly a secret. Just not talked about in the open. 

Wes cast a quick look around, then leaned closer. “At the risk of upsetting my boss,” he said in a low voice, tilting his head slightly towards Fey’lya, “I have to say that I’m not sure this is going to go the way he thinks it will.”

“Trosk Du’reha is an excellent singer, worthy of the musicians performing for us tonight,” Leia said. Wes wasn’t thick by any means, but couldn’t he see what Fey’lya was trying to do to his mother?

“We were just speaking with him,” Inyri said. “He has some fantastic stories to tell about his younger days.”

Wes’s hand raised up slightly, fingers twitching. Inyri fell silent and her eyes fell on Wes, looking curiously at him. “I’m sure the honorable Du’reha will be happy to share some of those stories after the performance. It’ll be fun. In any case, we won’t take up any more of your time, your majesty. Let me know if you need a, ah, respite, from the Chief Representative. I’ll have my second lurk nearby. He and the Representative don’t really enjoy each other’s company.”

With a cocky wink, Wes disappeared. Leia tracked his progress through the crowd, watching as he paused briefly to speak to Gavin Darklighter, who glanced her way and nodded.

After that, there was nothing to do but wait and make small talk with whatever dignitary or court member wandered her way. Bria finished nursing and was quickly and capably burped by Leia before Almira traded Breha for her sister so Leia could share a final round of cuddles and sweet words before the nurse droid appeared to take both infants to bed.

As the senior guild musicians reappeared and began to set up for the impromptu duet between Trosk Du’reha and Kotone, Counselor Cotoner slid up next to Leia, aiming a brief but intense glare to Borsk Fey’lya. 

“It’s considerate of Lady Kotone to agree to such a spurious invitation to provide mere  _ entertainment  _ for this event. I find I am a bit irked by the apparent intentions behind the Chief Representative’s suggestion.”

Leia had to remind herself not to chew on her lower lip. “Regardless of the Representative’s intentions, I don’t see Lady Kotone agreeing to anything that would cast herself in a poor light. I have also been assured by Colonel Janson himself that this should be more enjoyable than not.”

“Hmm.” Cotoner was hardly a fan of one Wes Janson of the New Republic military, not when she viewed him as the barrier standing between her sons and a union with the House of Organa. She was loyal to New Alderaan, though, and sensitive to the slight Fey’lya had offered by attempting to ridicule a landed member of the nobility. 

For once, Counselor Cotoner’s presence was oddly bolstering rather than one Leia had to guard against. Glancing around the room, Leia saw Wes and Inyri find a position near the stage. Wes looked cheerful, a familiar air of merriment surrounding him that had so often heralded a prank about to be unleashed on an unsuspecting person. 

Then there was another rustle of purposeful movement and Gavin Darklighter stepped close. “I beg your pardon, your majesty, but I hope you don’t mind me hovering nearby.” Gavin smiled sheepishly and there was so much Tatooine farmboy in his expression that Leia suddenly ached with desire to have her brother close by. “I don’t want to block anyone’s view.” 

Darklighter wasn’t the tallest being in the room but was closer to that then was typical of starfighter pilots. His presence was a ward against Borsk Fey’lya, though, and he was undoubtedly acting on Wes’s orders. Fey’lya wouldn’t dare go near him if he could help it, not after that horribly tragedy that had ended Darklighter’s relationship with Bothan Rogue Squadron pilot, Asyr Sei’lar. 

“Not at all, Major Darklighter,” Leia replied. Beside her, Counselor Cotoner eyed the tall pilot with appraising eyes. She had daughters as well as sons and it was well known that Rogue Squadron’s second-in-command was a rising star in the New Republic military. 

Then, before they had to resort to small talk, Kotone and Du’reha reappeared. Gone was the long, heavy dress and it’s fine embroidery. Kotone had exchanged it for a pair of sleek looking, well fitted trousers, a dark top with a sharply cut neckline, and a short jacket. While noticeably shorter than Trosk Du’reha, the change in wardrobe coordinated close enough to his own coloration and garb for them to look well matched. Each singer took up one of the handheld amplifiers, confirmed they were on, and nodded to the orchestra. 

Immediately, the opening notes of a famous duet exploded throughout the ballroom. The music was lush and dramatic, the opera it came from a story of secrets, forbidden loves, and attempted murder, all set within the storied walls of one of the great opera houses of lost Alderaan.

And Kotone began to sing. 

Her voice soared through the room, her voice warm, rich, and powerful. Each word was perfectly rounded, the intonation clear. It was a far cry from the raspy growl common in the type of music she had once performed on Coruscant but so utterly effortless Leia felt the hair on her arms immediately stand on end.

Kotone smirked as she finished her opening section, her movements small on the narrow performing stage but slyly enticing; she knew the role she was inhabiting and the music made famous by  _ Fantasma _ .

Du’reha then began to sing and he stepped closer to Kotone as his voice rose and fell through the music. He’d sung this part for three years on Coruscant and his skill and experience shone through. He reached out as he sang, passing his hand over Kotone’s head and shoulder, skimming just past her without touching her and she turned away shyly, barely daring the peek back at him over her shoulder. The lyrics matched their actions so well that the yearning ache their characters were feeling shone through.

After another brief musical break, Kotone picked up the reins of the song, her voice soaring light and bright over the heavy orchestration. Du’reha came in after her, and then they were singing together. Their voices moved together effortlessly, matching intonation for intonation, beat for beat, and with pure joy filling them both.

There was another interlude and Kotone jutted her chin out challengingly to Du’reha as heavy drums introduced a new section of the song. The taller Bothan smirked and a started gasp rolled through the room as he began to sing again in a deep, aggressive growl. Kotone’s head bobbed with the music, small twitches that reminded Leia of the holo of her aggressive head banging, and soon she was singing again as well in her effortless soprano.

Then they were near the end and Kotone began to move through the legato portion, her voice rising and falling effortlessly as she climbed higher and higher up the musical scale. Du’reha prowled around her like a hungry animal, interjecting briefly to drive her to sing higher, louder, to give more and more until those standing closest to her were leaning back as they felt the sheer power of her voice.

As the duet drew to the end, Kotone threw her head back to hit the final high note. The sound of it was rich and pure, and her face illuminated with the ecstasy of knowing the performance had been virtually flawless. The song came to a sudden decisive end, Kotone sharply cutting the note off. Moments later, she lunged forward, laughing, as she embraced Du’reha. 

A loud cheer and enthusiastic applause exploded in the room. The musicians began to play again, a spirited jig soaring over the crowd. While some of the guests eagerly leapt into the complicated steps of the dance, others surged forward to crowd around Kotone and Du’reha as they made their way towards Leia. 

Grateful that the happy reception the song had received would give her a few moments to gather her wits, Leia found herself exchanging astonished looks with Counselor Cotoner. Kotone had demurely mentioned having “a bit of vocal prowess” in the past but this rather firmly put to rest any doubts to her actual skill. 

“I was not expecting that,” Cotoner breathed a moment later. Her eyes were still wide. A memory of that final note still echoed in the room, the sound of it felt more than heard. 

The arts were supremely important to Alderaanian culture. By revealing herself a true Master of Singing, Kotone had just upset the rather delicately balanced web of art, politics, money, and power that ruled the planet. Art moved and enriched the soul of both performers and audience. Someone with a mastery of an art form held the power to affect wide swaths of the planet, to help shape and guide thoughts and feelings. True talent, honed by focused, dedicated practice, came about through the favor of the Force and the Goddess many Alderaanians believed in.

Kotone seemed to be highly favored, indeed.

“Your majesty?” Gavin murmured suddenly. When Leia glanced at him, he inclined his head slightly to the side, alerting her to Borsk Fey’lya’s approach. Gavin shifted into something loosely resembling a parade rest as the Chief Representative approached. The Bothan’s already twitching fur further fluffed up when he spotted Gavin standing solidly near Leia with no apparent intention of moving away. 

“Major Darkligher,” Fey’lya acknowledged stiffly, briefly forgetting the proper etiquette that should have had him acknowledge Leia first.

Gavin gave him a polite nod, his eyes narrowing slightly. No, these two would never be more than allies of order or convenience. 

“Representative Fey’lya!” Kotone beamed as she and Du’reha emerged from the crowd, honing in on the Bothan like a predatory feline stalking her prey. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing Trosk with you. It’s been so long since we’ve performed together; I’d almost forgotten how fun it was!”

“Performed… together?” Fey’lya asked.

“Alas, with all the preparations and the rigours of the journey,” Du’reha replied, “I unfortunately did not have an opportunity to properly expand on the long history Kotone and I have together.”

Kotone wrinkled her nose slightly. “Oh, yes. I’m afraid we fell out of touch after the Day of Dust, what with all the drama going on from that horrible day, but I’ve been following Trosk’s new career quite closely.”

It was both strange and amusing to be so thoroughly sidelined during a conversation. It had been a while since anyone had been so taken aback or distracted that they ended up ignoring the presence of royalty. Leia was determined to enjoy it for as long as possible. 

“New career… You… performed together,” Fey’lya repeated. Quiet horror was creeping into his voice. “That didn’t show up in the… I mean, I didn’t realize.”

Trosk smiled, showing a hint more of his sharp teeth than customary. A long arm was wrapped comfortably around Kotone’s waist. “After the Aratech Dome Festival Massacre, we found it important to fall off the sensor boards, so to speak. Our heavy isotope band has maintained it’s old ties and has actually continued to write and record music, but we truly never thought they’d ever been released. Certainly not under our former names. As such, we’ve become a mere footnote in history.”

“You were present for the Festival Massacre?” Counselor Cotoner asked.

Similar grimaces passed over Kotone and Du’reha’s faces. “We were amongst the slate of performers, yes,” Du’reha confirmed. “And picked up by the Imperial Security Bureau during the mop up afterwards. Kotone’s husband, Ressik, managed to liberate those of us who survived from the prison planet we were sent to and we were lucky enough to be able to secure new identities that kept us from being discovered by the ISB.”

“The ISB didn’t search for you?” Leia asked, speaking up for the first time. Fey’lya jumped at the abrupt reminder of her presence while Kotone smiled grimly.

“They had no reason to think we were alive. Ressik turned the facility into a hole in the ground, though doing so cost him dearly.” Kotone looked back at Fey’lya. “Chief Representative, I simply must thank you again for bringing Trosk with you. It’s been years since we sang  _ Fantasma _ and Trosk has come with a quite clever arrangement of the piece. I hope we can continue to practice and perfect it before you both must depart.”

The opening was too good to miss. “You simply must perform again for the Court before leaving,” Leia immediately said. She smiled, both at the idea of hearing such brilliant voices again and at how it would make Fey’lya’s fur twitch. “Several pieces, perhaps? I’m sure the guild musicians would be thrilled to help create a suitable program.”

“Really? You’d like that to hear us again?” Surprise and delight lit up Kotone’s face. She turned to the Bothan beside her. “Oh, Trosk, we must, really! It’s been years since I got to properly perform for anyone besides our families. Ooh, we could call the others! See who could travel here-”

“We’ll see what we can put together, your majesty,” Du’reha said, interrupting Kotone. He bowed again, then tucked Kotone’s hand into the crook of his arm. “We’ll begin discussing it at once.”

Kotone waved an excited goodbye to Leia as Du’reha tugged her away. Sheer joy filled her being, bleeding out of every twitch and hushed word she exchanged with the Bothan. It was easily the most animated Leia had seen her since the twins had been born and Kotone had briefly set aside her nurturing and protective demeanour to simply rejoice and greet her new family.

“Well, Borsk,” Leia said in a warm voice. “That was a truly wonderful surprise. Thank you for arranging it. I loved it, almost as much as Kotone and Trosk Du’reha, I think.”

“Ah, my pleasure, Leia,” Fey’lya replied as politely as he could manage. 

From there, the Bothan leaned in and the political maneuvering began again. This time, however, Leia faced it with Counselor Cotoner and Gavin Darklighter at her side and a fresh swell of support filling the room. That was one offensive movement countered. Time to face the next.

* * *

Leia paused, hairbrush halfway down a long strand of hair, when a soft knock sounded at her door. A brief flash of irritation and despair hit her. She was tired, very tired after such a long event, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. Instead of filling the air with curse words, she settled for glaring at the door and extracting the brush from her hair before calling for the knocker to enter.

A surprised tingle ran down her spine when Wes Janson cautiously stepped in. He was still in uniform, albeit with the tunic belt and sash loosened and black body stocking unsealed around his neck. He smiled sheepishly at her. “Almira let me in,” he said. “I thought- assumed- well, hoped that you might want to relax with someone who doesn’t have a political agenda. I can also leave,” he quickly added, turning slightly towards the door. “If you’d prefer to be alone.”

There was a hint of anxiety to Wes’s demeanor, a sense of vulnerability that he usually either didn’t feel or just hid.

Leia felt the tension drain out of her and she picked her hairbrush up and extended it to him. “You can stay but you have to earn the privilege,” she said.

Wes grinned and, after dumping his tunic, belt, and sash onto another chair, began brushing her hair. He was careful as he drew the paddle shaped device through the long strands, working out tangles without yanking her head around and fishing out hair pins as he came across them. He applied the same sharp intensity he normally greeted combat with to her hair. 

He’d had sisters, back before the Day of Dust, Leia remembered, and lots of nieces and nephews running around. He must have been enlisted to help do some grooming more than a few times.

A sense of peace spilled over Leia as Wes continued to work. She could feel his nerves untangling as well and for a while a peaceful silence fell between them. Eventually, as Wes began to run the brush through the long strands of tangle free hair, preparing to braid it into the long twin plaits she slept with.

“You were right about your mother,” Leia said after he set down the brush and began to divide part of her hair into three strands. “She’s very skilled.”

“Her head’s going to be three times it’s normal size for months after this,” Wes snorted. “Trosk always said that live performances were like spice to her. Add in how well the song went and that she got to make Borsk Fey’lya look bad, well. She’s going to be pretty unbearable for a while.”

“You’ve known Du’reha a long time, then?”

Wes grinned at Leia in the mirror. “All my life. I didn’t want to give anything away earlier, not when I didn’t know exactly what he had up his sleeve.”

“So you’re all troublemakers, then.” Leia suppressed the urge to shake her head, watching with interest as Wes made a face at the plait in his hands and began combing it back out with his fingers to start again. 

“Did Mom tell you about the Aratech Dome Festival Massacre?”

“Du’reha mentioned they were swept up in it.”

Wes let out a bark of laughter. “Swept up in it my ass. They helped start the damned thing. If you know where to look, there are holos of Mom screaming,  _ ‘Death to the false Emperor!’ _ while clobbering an undercover ISB officer with a barrier marker at the head of the mob.”

“That’s disturbingly easy to imagine,” Leia laughed. 

“I know, right? Trosk was swinging a broken double viol around, Mocurh was hitting people with Cas’nekluub’s extra drum sticks, and Cas’nekluub himself was just hitting people. Mocurh and Reidwedar were using the synthtone as a battering ram.” Wes shook his head as his fingers continued to twist her hair into the long plait. “It’s hilarious right up until the stormtroopers arrive. After that, well, it got bad, but still.”

“Those are the other people in the band?”

“Yup. Mocurh died in prison but his wife, Kunah, would visit along with the others. They’ve been getting together every few years for as long as I can remember.”

Leia held up a long ribbon when Wes reached the end of the plait. He took a few moments to concentrate on wrapping it around and around the braid before securing it in place with a simple knot. His fingers then skimmed up the braid, gently tugging and loosing different parts so that it all lay smooth and even. 

A tingle went up Leia’s neck as Wes gathered up the half of her hair still hanging loose behind her. The brush passed smoothly through the long locks and his gaze was so intense…

A thrum of desire began to build between her legs and her breasts suddenly felt heavy, not just with milk but also with the pulse of heightened nerves. A finger brushed the back of her neck, lightly tracing down her spine, causing her breath to catch in her throat. When Wes shifted position so he could start braiding her hair, she could just make out a new bulge in his bodystocking reflected in the mirror. 

The silent pulse of his growing desire wasn’t something she was instinctively familiar with, but she recognized it nonetheless. And suddenly fretted about, because she hadn’t lost all the pregnancy weight, her breasts were ridiculously large and tended to leak, and she slept in a nursing tank top just to keep everything in place. This pregnancy had been easy compared to the others, yet she hadn’t been able to bounce back the same way. 

It was a silly thing to worry about and she knew Wes wasn’t that shallow, and yet…

Wes finished the braid and tied the end off like he had the other. His fingers slid through the long plait, making a few more adjustments here and there. His hand hovered for a moment over her shoulder before he dropped it to his side. He moved, shifting sideways, then knelt down next to her, sitting back on his heels to smile up at her. 

“Hi,” he said softly. Wes smiled, his eyes warm, but also lit with that spark of desire. 

“Hi,” Leia answered. “Thank you.” Wes made an agreeable noise, then nuzzled into the hand she cupped his cheek with. His body was relaxed, desire still singing through him, but she could sense he was perfectly content like this, kneeling submissively at her feet. 

It was her choice. 

Her own need roared, urging her to knock him onto his back and mount him, to claim him and him hers forever. He’d let her, she knew. He was offering himself up to her and would give her whatever she wanted. 

He was hers to use and order about.

She’d have to take care not to abuse that privilege. 

Turning on the padded stool that sat in front of her vanity, Leia rose and tugged Wes to his feet. She took some time to look over him, admiring the way the body suited hugged his strong frame and the distortion caused by his growing arousal. Reaching up, she found the suit’s seal and began to undo it, taking time to drink in the tanned skin coming into view. She undid the seal almost all the way to his crotch, pausing only when the line of dark hair leading to his cock came into view. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to grope and fondle, but first-

“Wes? What do you want?” she asked, resisting the urge to cup his cheek again.

“What you want,” he mumbled. His eyes had fallen closed and his body was utterly free of any tension.

“And what does that mean, exactly?”

He scrunched his face slightly, clearly having to work to think. “I want to make you feel good,” he eventually said. “You’ll tell me how to do that. Because… because this isn’t like before.”

Before. When he’d bedded and impregnated her, as per specific conditions laid out in a complicated legal document. This was different. This was  _ him _ offering himself to  _ her, _ not as a breeding stud, but as a bedmate. 

As a lover.

She wanted him. Wanted to be desired simply as herself by someone who knew  _ her. _ She wanted a connection like she’d had once. She didn’t want a new husband, but she did want something like that intimacy. It had been so long… so very long. 

Wes caught her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’m offering,” he said softly. “I know it’s still strange and that… that it’ll change things. That it’ll probably keep changing going forward, but you can have this moment. We can have this moment.”

Leia stood still. Thought. Then tugged on Wes hand, pulling him down so she could kiss him. 

* * *

Leia squeezed her legs together, trying to decide if she really was still feeling wet on her thighs or if it was her imagination. Wes slept soundly beside her, his presence warm and comforting. He’d fallen asleep while she’d been in the bathroom afterwards, which meant there was no chance of concealing his presence in her bedchamber. 

Not that she’d been seriously thinking of doing so. But the court’s awareness and varying opinions were something she had to consider. She could never fully escape politics. Whatever the fallout, though, this had been worth it.

Curling up closer to Wes, Leia made an absent minded adjustment to her chest, ensuring everything was laying comfortably. She was probably imagining the feeling of still wet seed; she’d wiped down in the bathroom, after all. 

Of course, if either of them had been thinking properly, there wouldn’t have been any mess to deal with at all. Wes was a gentleman despite his protests, though, and had taken the part of the bed with the wet spot. 

This had been the right decision. Wes was warm and solid at her back. After years of having so few people to turn to, she’d found him a steady, reliable presence. He’d always offered her whatever she needed to find comfort and security without asking for anything in return. He accepted her own shoulder to cry on and took her steely orders with the relief of someone who needed something, anything, firm to grab onto. More recently, they’d felt like they were on even footing. Wes had found the straight and fortitude to begin treading a new path and Leia could go on knowing that he was a rock she could anchor herself to, a refuge from the stress and turmoil that still enveloped the galaxy. 

When she shifted again, Wes murmured softly in his sleep and wrapped an arm around her to hold her tight. Leia sighed happily, feeling heaviness spreading through her body. She and Wes came closer to understanding each other than any other two people in the entire galaxy, she was sure of it. 

For now, she was content. And that was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see the performance that inspired Kotone and Trosk Du'reha's song, look up "Floor Jenson & Henk Poort - Phantom of the Opera | Besta Zangers". It's delightful.


End file.
